


Heaven Here

by wingsdestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 14, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Birthday Presents, Canon Universe, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Domestic Fluff, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Insecure Dean Winchester, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Sam Winchester Knows, Secret Relationship, Semi-Closeted Dean Winchester, Supportive Sam Winchester, Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 12:12:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17580605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsdestiel/pseuds/wingsdestiel
Summary: Castiel has something special planned for Dean's 40th birthday.





	Heaven Here

**Author's Note:**

> Season 14 canon-divergent (no Michael!Dean).

Dean’s phone vibrates on the nightstand, shaking him from sleep. He has no idea what time it is (it’s always dark in the bunker, what with the whole underground, no windows thing), but he has the vague sense that it’s morning. He turns over groggily and reaches for his phone, unlocks it. The screen nearly blinds him, and he turns the brightness down, groaning. It’s 7:51 am, and he has a new text from Cas: _Good morning, Dean. Happy birthday!_ This is followed by a string of emojis: a cake, a balloon, a heart, and the one with the confetti and streamers. Dean types back a reply. _Where are you?_

_In the kitchen. Why?_

_My room too far?_

_Sam warned me that you might not be “decent.”_

Dean smirks at that. _Nothing you haven’t seen before._ As he hits send, he briefly worries that Sam might be reading Cas’ texts over his shoulder, but the feeling soon dissipates. Sam has known about them for months (and probably had a hunch long before that), and it’s not like Dean forgets, not really. The anxiety is just an automatic response when it comes to him and Cas. There were two years or so of active denial, followed by five years of avoidance. And even once things had categorically changed between them, there were still two additional years of sneaking around. So the desire to conceal, to omit, is instinctual after a near decade of practice. It’s muscle memory.

He had been planning to tell Sam himself, eventually, but never quite found the right moment. Sam was the one to bring it up one night, as they were driving home from a job. Dean thought he had a lot of nerve to do that while they were in an enclosed space, let alone in a moving vehicle – if it had been during the aforementioned active denial phase, Dean probably would’ve crashed the car and killed them both.

“You and Cas seem good,” Sam had said, clearly trying for casual.

Dean’s heart rate had picked up a bit, but he tried to mirror Sam’s tone. “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Dean… You can tell me if y– ”

“Yeah, I know,” he interrupted before Sam could finish.

This seemed to throw Sam off, and there was a brief pause as he tried to make sense of it. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Yes I do. So you can drop it.”

“Wait… are you saying you guys are already a thing?”

“Drop it, Sam.”

And he did.

So Sam knows. They don’t really do anything in front of him, though – Dean’s _definitely_ not ready for that. At most, their casual touches – Cas’ reassuring pat on Dean’s shoulder, Dean’s hand on Cas’ back to let him know he’s passing behind him – linger a tiny bit longer. Sam brazenly stares at them sometimes, as if he’s hoping to gather more evidence. But overall, his reaction has been about as understated as Dean could’ve hoped for.

Dean’s pretty sure that Jack, on the other hand, doesn’t suspect anything. He’s not dumb, but he doesn’t know Dean half as well as Sam does, and he probably doesn’t have any preconceived notions of what a friendship between two guys looks like. Jack is generous with his affection – he probably gives more hugs in a week than Dean does in a whole year, and says things like “you’re important to me” and “I love you” with such ease that it makes Dean jealous sometimes. With only his own openness as a point of reference, it’s unlikely that Jack finds anything suspicious about Dean’s interactions with Cas.

There’s a soft knock on Dean’s door, followed by Cas’ voice. “Dean?”

Dean sits up in bed and answers, “Yeah?”

Cas opens the door just enough to lean in, smiling. “Happy birthday, Dean.” Even with the smile, he says it in that serious Castiel tone, like it’s the most important sentence he’ll ever speak. He says pretty much everything that way.

Dean can’t help but smile back at him. “You know you said that already, right?”

Cas lets out a small, soft laugh. “Text messages don’t count. I wanted to let you sleep in, but Sam and Jack got donuts, and if you don’t get up soon, I’m afraid you won’t get one.”

“Anything that ain’t the crack of dawn is sleeping in for me,” Dean points out, and swings his legs over the side of the bed, stretching.

Cas seems to decide against lurking in the doorway, and steps inside. Dean is glad to see him gaining the confidence to enter his room without an explicit invitation – in the past he’s seemed concerned about crossing a boundary or invading Dean’s space. Most of the time, Dean _wants_ him in his space, he just doesn’t always know how to ask. So the more initiative Cas can take, the better.

Cas strides over to the bed and looks down at Dean, who finds himself feeling self-conscious – his hair is undoubtedly sticking up at odd angles, he hasn’t brushed his teeth, and for all he knows he could have drool on his face. But Cas just looks at him the same way he always does, and leans down to press a kiss against his forehead. Dean’s cheeks get hot. Even after all this time, he still feels awkward about Cas treating him with such tenderness.

He takes Cas’ hand, squeezes it gently. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Cas nods. “Yes, you’d better get ‘decent,’” he says with a sly smile, and leaves the room.

Dean showers quickly, brushes his teeth and throws on his predictable ensemble of a T-shirt, flannel, and jeans. When he steps out of the hall and into the war room, he’s shocked to see Mary sitting at the table, next to Cas, across from Sam and Jack. Everyone turns to look at him, and he gives Cas a questioning look – _Why didn’t you tell me she was here?_ Cas just smiles.

“Hey, mom,” Dean says, and he can hear the surprise in his own voice. She’s been away for a few weeks, working on a series of hunts with Bobby, and it hadn’t even occurred to Dean to ask if she would be back in time for his birthday – that’s just not the kind of thing hunters prioritize. But here she is, and she gets up to give him a hug.

“Happy birthday, honey,” she says, and kisses him on the cheek.

Sam and Jack each get up and hug him, too. It’s a little too sappy for Dean’s comfort, but he rolls with it. Jack looks at him with admiration, like he’s something special, and it pulls on Dean’s heart a little. “Do you feel different?” Jack asks him.

“Nope,” Dean says. And it’s mostly the truth. Time has always felt a little odd to him since he came back from hell, and he suspects it always will. Forty doesn’t feel too different from thirty-nine, not in the grand scheme of things. He’s used to the surreal feeling of making it to another birthday; each year he lives through (especially _without_ dying in the middle) surprises him more than the last. But something about this day, if not the age itself, does feel different. Maybe it’s all the attention – most of his birthdays have been celebrated quietly, with a couple of beers between him and Sam, and maybe a pizza. Now he has this whole family, hugging him, encouraging him to sit down and pick out any donut he wants, like he’s a little kid. It feels a bit wrong, a bit unsettling. But maybe that’s just because he’s never had it before.

Dean sits down next to his mom and chooses a powdered donut. Nobody suggests putting a candle in it, or singing, and for that he’s grateful.

The next hour or so feels relatively normal. They drink coffee, Mary talks about her last few hunts, and everyone partakes in some good-natured teasing about how Dean is an ‘old man’ now. “You ain’t too far behind me, Sammy,” Dean says. “And you” – he points to Cas – “are what, a billion?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Cas says with a slight smile.

“You don’t look a day over thirty-five,” Mary says, and pats Cas on the arm.

Dean laughs along with everyone else, but also feels a familiar vertigo – Cas is _ancient_. On a good day, Dean can comprehend Cas loving him, but _Castiel_ , the billion-year-old angel of the lord? That’s harder to accept. He also finds himself surprised at the way Mary talks to Cas, the way she looks at him. There’s this… warmth. Sometimes Dean wonders if she knows. Sam probably wouldn’t tell her something like that out of the blue, but if she asked, it might be a different story. Or maybe she just has that sixth sense that people always say moms have. Regardless, Dean tries not to be too obvious around her. Cas has been remarkably patient about that, and seems to understand that Dean isn’t ashamed of him, he’s just in uncharted territory.

Mary gets up to take a call, and wanders off into the hallway. She comes back a few minutes later and says, “That was Bobby. There’s a possible vamp nest out in Cincinnati, two people dead. If I leave now I can meet him there.”

Jack’s eyes light up. “Maybe I can go with you.”

She hesitates, and seems to consider it, but Dean and Cas say “No,” in unison. Jack’s been trying to worm his way into going on hunts lately, but as long as he’s in his weakened state, no one wants to risk his safety. He may be smart and brave, but he’s also young, inexperienced, and reckless.

“I know you want to help,” Mary says to Jack, “but they’re in charge.” She gestures at Sam, Cas, and Dean. “They just want you to be safe.”

“How will I learn if you never let me do anything?” Jack says, and gives his guardians an indignant look.

“You gotta start small,” says Sam. “No vamp nests. Maybe a low-power ghost, something like that.”

Jack scowls and takes a sip of his coffee, but doesn’t argue.

Mary turns to Dean. “I’m sorry, I know I just got back, and it’s your birthday – ”

“Mom,” he says. “It’s okay. Go.”

She looks relieved. Did she really think he would try to guilt her into staying? He gets up and hugs her goodbye, asks her to call when she gets there. She hugs Sam, too, then Jack (“Be good,” she says to him, and kisses him on the forehead). She hugs Cas last, and says something to him, too quiet for Dean to hear. Then she grabs her keys and goes up the stairs to the door.

When the door closes behind her, Sam says, “She didn’t even bring her bags down from the car.” There’s no bitterness in his tone; it sounds mostly like an observation tinged with a bit of amusement. They’ve both had a few years to adjust to Mary’s habit of taking off. She was dead for most of their lives, and now that she’s back, she doesn’t spend much time with them. Dean knows it’s nothing personal – she can’t pass up any opportunity for hunting, and it probably feels weird to hang around people she only really met a few years ago, even if they are her kids.

“Anyway,” Sam says, “I think I’m gonna hit the books again.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jack says, and they both head into the library. For months, they’ve all been looking through lore books to find something that can restore Jack’s grace. He doesn’t need to be at full power, but everyone would feel better if he could defend himself without siphoning off pieces of his soul to do so. It feels kind of hopeless to Dean at this point, but if it makes them happy to keep researching, he’s certainly not going to stop them.

“Well...” Dean says to Cas. He keeps his voice low, and aims for a smoldering look. “Looks like you got me alone.”

“Yes,” says Cas, his tone instantly darker. He steps closer, brushes a finger over Dean’s bottom lip, quirks one eyebrow. “Are you saying you want to go back to bed?”

Dean’s breath hitches. He’s the one that started the flirting just now, but it still surprises him how easily Cas can turn it back on him. He used to think of himself as a master of seduction, but Cas can disarm him without even trying. “I mean… if that’s what you want.”

“It’s your birthday, Dean.” Cas keeps up his suggestive tone, but Dean doesn’t miss the way his eyes soften a bit. “We can do whatever you’d like.”

Dean glances back towards the library, trying to decide whether he can get away with kissing Cas right here, right now. He doesn’t have a clear sightline to wherever Sam and Jack are, but he can hear their voices coming from what sounds like the back corner of the library, so he grabs Cas’ tie and pulls him forward. Before their lips even come together, there’s a whoosh of wings and the world spins. Half a second later, they’re standing in Dean’s bedroom, and Cas is kissing him breathless.

“Told you,” Dean murmurs against Cas’ lips. “Hate it when you do that.”

Cas pulls back, and grins when Dean leans forward automatically, trying to follow his mouth; he loves to make Dean chase after a kiss, especially when he’s already this worked up. Instead of returning to Dean’s mouth, Cas turns his attention to his neck, sucking lightly, and Dean shudders. “I’m sorry,” Cas says, and bites gently along his jaw.

“No you’re not,” Dean says, and Cas chuckles.

Dean spins them around and crowds Cas toward the bed. Cas puts a hand on his chest, and at first, Dean assumes Cas is just trying to get him to take his shirt off. But Cas pulls back from their kiss again, without the teasing look this time, and Dean realizes that Cas is trying to stop him. Anxiety flashes through his body. His stomach drops. “What – ”

Cas must see the concern on Dean’s face, because he presses a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s subdued, especially compared to what they were doing before, but it still succeeds in easing Dean’s worry, at least a little. “Before we get too…” – Cas pauses, searching for the right word – “ _involved_ here, I want to ask you something. I was going to wait until later, but...”

Dean can’t imagine where this is going. They’ve done stuff – gotten intimate? He’s never sure what to call it – plenty of times before, and Cas is normally anything but hesitant. But Dean knows Cas’ body language pretty well by now, and since he isn’t closing himself off or tensing up, the question can’t be _too_ serious.

“Would you like to get away for a few days? Just you and I?”

Dean stares at him blankly. “Away? As in, a vacation?”

“Vacation might be too strong a word, but yes, a trip. For your birthday.”

“What would we tell Sam?” There’s that reflex again. Going away for the weekend is such a _couple_ thing.

“Sam… already knows I was going to ask you. He helped me plan something.”

His knee-jerk reaction is to be pissed at Cas for involving Sam, but he manages to push it down. He knows it’s irrational; Cas only wanted to do something nice for him, and it’s not like Sam didn’t already know. “You have a whole thing planned?”

“Yes, but if you don’t want to go, we don’t have to. I could get the deposit back, or –”

“Let’s go.”

Cas seems a bit surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, Cas, why would you think I’d say no?”

“I wasn’t sure if it would be too soon for us to do something like that.”

Dean has never taken things even half this slow with anyone, so the idea that they could move too fast is almost laughable to him. But that’s just it, ten years and all the shit they’ve been through, and Dean still can’t say ‘I love you’ to the guy, so maybe Cas has his reasons for being apprehensive. “Where are we going?”

Cas smiles, correctly reading Dean’s question as confirmation that it’s not too soon, that he wants to go. “A cabin, a few hours from here. It’s on a lake, I thought you might like to fish."

Cas tells Dean all about the cabin while he packs. Two acres of land, right on the water, with a dock and everything. It’s been a relatively mild winter, but he advises Dean to pack lots of layers, just in case they get snow. “There’s a full kitchen, and it’s stocked,” he says, “so we won’t have to worry about food.”

“Cas, how are you paying for this? Or are we just breaking into someone’s lake house while they’re away?”

“I assure you, it’s a legitimate rental. Sam taught me how to hustle pool.”

Dean laughs, though his heart flutters from the thought of Cas working (that term used loosely, but still) just to afford something for him. “Shoulda let me teach you. You’d be a lot better.”

“Yes, but then you would’ve asked what I wanted the money for.”

He shrugs, continues folding clothes and packing them into his duffel. “Maybe. So, uh, what did Sam say about all this, anyway?”

“He said you haven’t gone anywhere for yourself in years.”

“Yeah, neither has he,” Dean says, and starts to feel guilty.

“We can take another trip soon,” Cas says. “With Sam and Jack. Maybe your mom can come, too.”

Dean nods. He’s definitely up for a family vacation, but he’s also grateful that he gets a few days alone with Cas, so he won’t have to be paranoid about anyone hearing or seeing something they shouldn’t. “Hey, by the way, what did my mom say to you? Before she left.”

Cas hesitates, like he’s trying to decide whether or not he should lie, but at Dean’s reproachful look, he sighs in resignation and says, “She said ‘Have a good time.’”

“Was I the only person who didn’t know about this trip?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t tell her, did you? About… about us?” It sounds bad when he says it like that, but he just has to remind himself that Cas knows it’s not personal.

“No, I would never tell her something like that without your permission. Sam only mentioned to her that you and I were going fishing for a few days, and I saw no reason to refute that. But Dean, to be entirely honest, I think she knows. She didn’t question why Sam and Jack weren’t coming with us.”

Dean sighs. It was kind of inevitable that she would find out (or figure it out), but there’s something so unsettling about not knowing her reaction, not knowing when or how she first realized. Was she surprised? Disappointed? Weirded out?

Cas seems to pick up on his train of thought. “She’s been nothing but kind to me,” he says, and Dean knows that part is true. “So I don’t believe it bothers her, if she does know.”

Logically, it makes sense. If she had an issue with it, she probably wouldn’t treat Cas like family.

Dean zips his duffel closed and gives Cas an apprehensive look. “You gonna zap us there?” He sincerely hopes the answer is no; he hates the feeling of ‘flying,’ especially longer distances. Getting zapped around within the bunker is so quick (less than a nanosecond, according to Cas) that Dean barely feels it, which is why he lets him get away with it. But going farther than that makes Dean feel like he’s been shot into orbit and snapped back down to earth, with a strange kind of gravitational echo that makes his whole body unsteady and tingly even after they land.

Cas smiles. “Sam said he doesn’t mind if we take the Impala. I can leave my car here in case he needs to go anywhere.”

“Thank god.”

The only thing left to do is say goodbye to Sam and Jack. He’s not looking forward to it. What if Jack asks questions? What if Sam teases him? Ordinarily, a little teasing from his little brother is the least of Dean’s worries, but he’s sensitive about the topic of his relationship with Cas, and he just hopes Sam won’t take advantage of that.

When Dean and Cas stand in the doorway of the library, duffel bags in hand, Sam and Jack both glance up from their lore books. “Hey, uh,” Dean says awkwardly, and though he doesn’t miss Sam’s raised eyebrows and expectant look, he manages to continue. “Cas and I are gonna head out, take a little trip. We should be back by Monday.”

“Oh?” Sam says, clearly feigning surprise. “Okay, that’s… That’s great.” He clears his throat and looks back down at his book, turns the pages like he’s looking for something. “Have a good time, guys.”

“We’ll call you if we find something,” Jack adds.

“If you do find something,” says Cas, “please do not attempt it until we get back.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, and looks at his brother sternly. “No spells, no experiments.”

“We get it, Dean.” Sam shares a little smile with Jack. “No TV after dinner, bedtime at eight.”

“Hilarious,” Dean says, and he and Cas leave the room. That’s it. There’s no hugging (Dean’s pretty sure his hugging quota has been filled for a while), no questions, no weird comments. As they go up the stairs to the door, Cas gives him a look that says, _See? Nothing to worry about._

When they pull onto the highway, it’s like Dean can finally breathe. He never would’ve realized on his own just how much he needed to get away with Cas for a while. The bunker is home (and he’s glad to have it), but it can get a little claustrophobic, and not just because it’s underground. Maybe it’s because he’s so used to constantly being on the move, but waking up in the same room every day feels almost depressing sometimes.

He cracks the Impala’s windows to let in some of the crisp, cool air, then hands Cas the box of cassette tapes, tells him to pick anything he wants. Cas puts on Bob Seger and looks out the window, gazing at the bare trees and scattered patches of melting snow with the expression of appreciation he often wears when observing the natural world. They sit in comfortable silence, except for Dean’s fingers tapping on the steering wheel along to the music, and Cas’ occasional driving directions.

He’s so damn grateful for this. Sam and Jack are safe (assuming they don’t do anything stupid this weekend). _Cas_ is safe, and by his side, and taking care of him, giving him things he didn’t even know he needed. Dean wants so badly to be able to tell Cas how happy he is, how much all of this means to him, how he’s never felt so loved as he feels today. But he’s not good with words, never has been. So he just thinks about it, turns it over and over in his mind, hoping that somehow, Cas will feel it.


End file.
